“We are indeed much more than what we eat, but what we eat can nevertheless help us to be much more than what we are.” –Adelle Davis
As I mentioned before in my blog post about needing less money, I recently decided to offer barter advertising through Tiny Buddha—meaning I plan to promote products and services I support in exchange for things I need.
This week I started my first barter arrangement with L.O.V.E. Delivery, a company here in Los Angeles that delivers organic produce right to your door.
Before my first shipment arrived two days ago, I actually found myself anticipating its arrival with giddy enthusiasm, like a kid on Christmas.
It was kind of exciting to know I’d be getting a more diverse assortment of produce than I’d purchase in the store; and it would all be naturally produced, fresh, and personally packaged by someone who loves the work he does.
I also appreciated that receiving this food created a sense of mealtime mindfulness that started with the delivery, extended to the preparation, and then culminated with a sense of hyper-awareness while eating. It’s instinctive to savor food when you feel a sense of respect and even awe for it.
I haven’t always felt that way. As a teen and in my early 20s, food was my enemy. I felt happiest when I felt in control of it—meaning I ate a minimal amount of it.
Even after I adopted a healthier attitude toward food, it remained a rival of sorts. All too often, I hurried through the grocery store, piled the cheapest and easiest-to-prepare items in my cart, and then rushed through the acts of cooking and eating, like items to be checked off my to-do list.
Anyone who has traveled internationally knows that many other cultures enjoy the experience of preparing and eating meals far more than most of us do in the United States.
Now with a microwave in nearly every home, we’re more apt to eat something quickly and conveniently–and often alone–while tweeting, emailing, or watching TV, than we are to sit down with friends or family over a leisurely dinner.
A friend of mine once said he was waiting for food pellets to come out so that he didn’t have to waste any time eating. But what, exactly, is wasteful about slowing down, taking care of your body, and connecting with other people?
How centered and happy can we be if we feel so harried, we’re willing to outsource something that can be one of life’s greatest pleasures? And I’m not just talking about the satisfaction we feel when we indulge in comfort foods. I’m talking about enjoying the complete experience.
Ironically, there’s some research that shows people who enjoy food more tend to eat less because they feel satisfied enough to stop when they’re full.
So the question seems to be: How can we make the act of eating more satisfying? I recommend:
1. Simplify the “What I should be eating” equation.
In his eye-opening book In Defense of Food, Michael Pollan suggests we should all, “Eat food. Not too much. Mostly plants.” He defines food as items our great grandmothers would recognize—meaning whole foods, with five ingredients or less. He also suggests it’s a smart idea to “shake the hand that feeds you.” If you have access to a farmer’s market or organic delivery service, that’s ideal.
I’ve decided to see this as an exercise to overcome my perfectionism. It doesn’t need to be black-and-white; you don’t need to always eat perfectly or stress about the nutrients you might not be getting (and then buy processed foods that claim to have those nutrients in spades). If you’re eating a high percentage of healthy, whole foods, you’re doing just fine.
2. Think moderation.
It’s natural to want foods that taste good. After all, that’s a big part of what makes eating pleasurable. But if you indulge or overindulge at every meal, you may end up feeling guilty or out of control, and you’ll definitely feel unhealthy and sluggish.
Decide that you can have the things you enjoy, but in moderation. For me, this means dipping my fork in dressing instead of dumping it all over my salad, and having a bite or two of dessert instead of devouring a massive piece of cake. Then once a week, have that heavier dish you crave. When you’re not denying yourself, but you’re conscious of what’s good for your body, it’s easier to enjoy.